So how did this all start?

So how did this all start?

For beginners, I’ve always been an artist.  My first commercial piece of art was done clear back when the series Stranger Things is set.  Yah, I’m that old.  But honestly, its been a talent I’ve had for some time that I never, wholeheartedly pursued, until now.  And why now?

Back in late April of ’25 I contracted C19 for the 3rd time.  This time, however, it did some damage.  This bout of C19 brought along a little friend called pneumonia, but a particularly nasty strain that was MRSA based.  Long story condensed, the C19 damaged my heart and the MRSA damaged my lungs.

I worked with the medical professionals for months, burning through all my accrued sick time, additional vacation time, personal time and comp time.  We then switched to FMLA and exhausted that.  All the while, medical test after medical test was showing damage, but no causation.

Eventually, I got to an endocrinologist who said this strain of C19 is damaging the mitochondria in the cells of certain people who contracted it.  I was one of those fortunate ones.  So cardiology could not explain the issues with my heart and its strange irregular rhythms.  I walked away from those tests with the cardiologist saying there was “No cardiac reason for what your heart is doing.”  Additionally, I have damaged lungs.  Tests show I have about a 15% loss of lung function. On its face, 15% doesnt sound so bad, until you are on a treadmill or stairclimber.

Additionally, I developed significant tremors.  On days that the tremors are bad, one can hear it in my voice and handwriting becomes impossible . . . let alone holding a brush or pencil.  On top of the tremors, life sprinkled in significant muscle weakness and mental malaise, headaches, and ocular migraines.  All because my mitochondria cant use the oxygen and nutrients efficiently.

So whats the fix?  Nobody in the medical field where I live has an answer.  They know what causes it, but not how to fix it.  To the credit of my Dr. (a fantastic provider) she suggested I try infusions from a local provider.  To this point, those provide the most significant relief I’ve been able to find but only last 4 to 5 months before the symptoms return with a vengeance.

So, the job I loved, the profession I’d poured my heart into was no longer a viable means to an end.  I would be putting a significant number of people in harms way if I tried to sweep this all under the rug and press on.  And why would I even consider trying to push the issue?

Retirement.

I was only 4 years from the finish line.  Four short years to full retirement.  As it turns out, I couldn’t do a medical retirement as the pension people required I be 100% disabled in order to collect my full pension.  Well, I was 100% disabled for what I did as a profession, but they said I had to be 100% disabled period.  Unable to work at all.  To me, 100% disabled meant I was dead.  But I was far from it.  I still have a ton of life left to live. I still want to drive the final setting sun of my life into the ground.

So my employer found a temporary gig for me.  “Light duty”.  And it worked, until I didn’t.  I will admit that when I got sick, I had a sincere sense that this was not going to end well for me.  Despite leadership telling me not to worry about retirement and that they’d find a place for me to finish the next 4 years, and cross the finish line to get my full retirement, I remember thinking, “Thats nice, I appreciate that, but I dont think you can say that.”  The HR department would have a say . . . a final say in whatever happened to me.  And as it turned out, I was the expendable asset I feared I had become.